Raising Hermione
by chelseyb
Summary: They knew, when they sent her off to that school for witches, that Hermione would change. They had no idea how much. Oneshot, canon-compliant.


******Disclaimer**: The world of Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling. I make no profit from this use.

* * *

**Raising Hermione**

They've always known she's different, and it delights them.

People always ask the Drs. Granger why they never had another child after Hermione Jean. They smile at each other over their precocious toddler and think that if perfection was reached on the nineteenth of September, 1979, why would they need anything more?

Hermione is a joy from the moment she is born. Curious and bright from a young age, she is the first among the children of Mrs. Granger's peers to reach all those important milestones – first tooth, first step, first word. From spoken to written word is only a few years, and it is there that little Hermione makes her first friend.

She takes to the world of books like an otter to a river. Nothing delights Mrs. Granger more than to have her daughter in her lap while she reads aloud. All too soon Hermione is impatient to be the one doing the reading. Pictures quickly give way to chapters, and it's not an unusual sight to find Hermione on top of her father's desk in the study, flipping through a dictionary or encyclopedia almost as large as she is in search of some term that presents not a stymie but yet another opportunity to learn.

It is not a surprise when Hermione starts primary school and the teacher calls the Grangers in for a meeting. Hermione is simply too advanced for the class, and the teacher is concerned she will grow restless if she pulls too far ahead of her classmates. Moving her up a year is discussed, but ultimately the Grangers decide against it, for there is one area in which their daughter is lacking.

Friends. Playmates, chums, pals. Hermione's best friend is whatever book happens to be in her bag at the time, and her closest confidant is the notebook in which she writes inventive little stories. They've noticed the problem since nursery school, but their attempts at play dates all fail. Hermione is in a league of her own, already too smart for other children to appreciate. The idea of placing her among older children is tempting, but for once Mrs. Granger lets her motherly instinct override her cool logic. Hermione stays put.

They don't rely on the school system for Hermione's education, seeking to supplement the books she loves with real-world experiences. Camping, theater trips, holidays to France – they do it all. Their Hermione will have the most well-rounded of well-rounded childhoods. Someday she will look back and remember fondly all the places they go.

Sometimes things happen that Mrs. Granger cannot explain. Seeing her toddler with her face smeared with chocolate when she is absolutely sure she put the biscuits in a place Hermione can't reach, finding children's books on top of the bookcase, even discovering a soft toy in baby Hermione's cot when she's certain it wasn't there the night before. She either chalks them up to her own slipping memory or praises Hermione for being impossibly clever and resourceful. When something happens that is utterly inexplicable – a squirrel running out in front of the car only to fly out of the way when eight-year-old Hermione cries out and throws her hands in front of her – when this and other events occur, Mrs. Granger is forced to assume her eyes deceive her. She makes a note to see her optometrist.

Hermione grows, still eager to learn, still gifted beyond her age, and the Grangers know she will become a mover and a shaker. She's set to go off to an exclusive secondary school just before her twelfth birthday. It is a long time between September and Christmas and they will miss her, but it's for the best. It's time for their daughter's extraordinary intelligence and diligence to be fully utilized. The same sixth form college Mrs. Granger attended will follow and then uni. She'll certainly pursue post-graduate education, and possibly study abroad. Hermione's future, brilliant and shining, stretches out in front of them like the sun climbing over the horizon.

Then the woman shows up on their doorstep. She is polite and articulate and utterly mad. Magic? Magic is sleight of hand and optical illusions and anything but real. Then a stick of wood appears and her teacup turns into a frog. An actual frog that actually hops away and actually has to be captured and taken outside. Mr. and Mrs. Granger are flabbergasted into silence, but Hermione, their smart and logical Hermione, politely demands to see more. The sofa on which they sit is turned a dreadful canary yellow color.

Still the Grangers cannot believe what they are seeing. Their daughter, whilst being exceptionally bright and talented, is not a witch and will not be turned into one at some unknown school in Scotland. The woman smiles kindly if a bit impatiently and says if they truly do not wish for Hermione to study there, then she can make them forget all about this.

She has one more thing to say. Hasn't anything ever happened to or around Hermione that simply cannot be explained? It is her inability to say no to that question, and Hermione's brown eyes round with pleading, that help Mrs. Granger on her way to her final answer, but mostly it is the offer to make them forget.

Because if the woman can make them forget about the school, what else can she make them forget?

The first of September arrives in a whirlwind. Earlier, a day is spent in a part of London she didn't know existed, but she is so quickly overwhelmed with goblins and broomsticks and bat spleens that nothing seems real until she has a whiskey in a nice, normal pub. She tries to forget about it until it is time for Hermione to climb aboard a train and be whisked off to parts unknown. Tears are shed and hugs are tight, and too soon Hermione is waving from a window. They are proud, no doubt; Hermione has already begun to conquer this unknown, memorizing her textbooks before she's ever required to open them.

It is only when they turn to leave that one memory returns from that fantastical day in London: the word Muggle. The Grangers are Muggles, and Hermione is a witch, and this will forever separate them.

Hermione's first year goes as smoothly as can be expected. She writes of marks and houses and prefects, and the Grangers relax. These are things they can understand. Mrs. Granger wonders why her daughter never mentions maths or the arts or languages, but she supposes it's as it has always been, and Hermione is too far ahead of her classmates for those subjects to entertain her.

Letters arrive regularly, mysteriously sliding through the mail slot with the rest although none bear stamps. A name occasionally pops up in her daughter's letters, that of Harry Potter, and toward the end of the first term the name of Ron Weasley begins to join it. Their names are often mentioned in conjunction with scorn or exasperation, but Mrs. Granger finally realizes what it means, bringing tears to her eyes.

For the first time, Hermione has friends.

They meet these friends the following summer, back in that strange place in London. Hermione, of course, drags them to a bookstore, and it is there that the Grangers are forcibly reminded that they are outsiders in this world, that they learn they may not be welcome. A man accosts Ron Weasley's overenthusiastic father, and he gazes at the Grangers with obvious contempt, the likes of which they as educated professionals had never encountered. For a moment Mrs. Granger fears this prejudice extends to her daughter, who has never said a word about it.

However, the incident is forgotten, and Hermione's second year begins. With two exceptions, it is uneventful. The first is when Hermione writes asking to stay for Christmas. Exam preparation, she explains. Despite her pride in her daughter's industry, Mrs. Granger is hurt. Her husband intercedes, explaining that Hermione's older and has friends now. It's natural for teenagers to want to spend time with their friends. They reluctantly give their permission and spend a very quiet Christmas day at home, picking at dinner and glancing at the empty chair. Then, toward the end of the school year, nearly a month passes without a letter. Mrs. Granger is almost to the point of writing the school when one arrives. Hermione says she is sorry, that she was busy preparing for exams. Oddly, when she returns home, exams aren't mentioned once.

She is somewhat subdued that summer and so they take her to France, which seems to cheer her up. She asserts her growing independence again when she asks them to drop her off in that Alley place early; she can stay with the Weasleys for a few days and they'll take her to the train station. It's only a few days, Mrs. Granger tells herself. For now, it's only a few days.

In her third year there are subtle changes when Hermione mentions Harry Potter, and Mrs. Granger smiles, thinking Hermione may have her first crush. She wonders if that is what has her daughter so distracted, for Hermione's letters are unusually sloppy, often appearing to have been finished much later than when they were started. She knows, too, that Hermione has a heavy class load this year. Always the overachiever, her daughter, wanting to know everything. Again, she wants to stay for Christmas, and the Grangers accept this will probably be her wish every year.

Her joy at having her daughter home for the summer is short-lived; in August Hermione goes to stay with the Weasley family and attend the World Cup of something that is decidedly not football. They're surprised, for the one area in which Hermione has never shown interest in sports, but this time it is Mrs. Granger who has to remind her husband that their daughter is getting older. The sport is probably not the main attraction. They offer to go along, but Hermione dismisses it. She says they would be confused, and Mrs. Granger hopes her daughter didn't mean the implied sting in her words. She goes, for it makes her happy, but Mrs. Granger fears she is slipping away.

Hermione's fourth year offers much excitement. International students visit for some sort of competition for which Hermione is apparently too young. The Grangers are disappointed and hope the tournament is repeated again in a few years because Hermione would be sure to win. It's Hermione's first school dance as well, and a new name begins to spot her letters: Viktor Krum. Mrs. Granger smiles, for despite this it is Ron Weasley who now elicits the most emotion even if much of it is anger.

The Hermione that arrives home the next summer is quiet and pensive, spending much of her time writing letters to Harry Potter, making Mrs. Granger wonder if she was wrong about Ron Weasley. Regardless, she wishes to finish the summer with the Weasleys again, daring to argue when her parents object. It's a stubborn side to their daughter they know exists but haven't encountered in some time. Eventually they give in, realizing it's important to her for some reason. She is made a prefect shortly before school begins, and although it's expected, they couldn't be prouder. Hermione may not have grown up a witch, but that hasn't held her back in the least.

Hermione writes constantly during her fifth year, unusually concerned about their well-being. She repeats that everything is fine at Hogwarts over and over, even when they don't ask. Naturally this has the opposite effect as intended, but Mrs. Granger can't perceive anything between the lines. Perhaps she's merely homesick, a thought strengthened when she decides to come home for the Christmas break. They plan a short skiing trip, and everything is wonderful until Hermione drops a bomb at the last minute: she wants to stay. Everyone who's serious about exams is staying. One can't discourage academic pursuits, so they pretend to concede readily, but Mrs. Granger wonders if Hermione has become more witch than daughter.

It is no surprise when she immediately wants to spend the summer with the Weasleys. They have less than a fortnight together. The Grangers are tremendously pleased when she receives her outstanding exam results – they've been told the tests are comparable to O-levels – but the excitement quickly fades. The news arrives via letter, and it's hard to celebrate without the key player. They can't even boast to their friends, for who could make sense of the subjects? The divide between them has never looked larger.

Thankfully, Hermione's preoccupation of the last year seems to fade, and as normal a girl as a teenage witch can be shines through. Her letters are conspicuous (in a very telling way) in their lack of a certain Ron Weasley. Upheaval seizes the entire country that year – a hurricane in the West Country, of all places – and the Grangers are relieved for once that Hermione is isolated at a strange school in Scotland. Safe.

Hermione returns for the summer before her final year of schooling a serious, thoughtful young woman, and Mrs. Granger can't help but wonder where her little girl went. Hermione is nearly eighteen, and as Mrs. Granger watches an interesting television program on Australia, she calls Hermione for tea, deciding to see if, despite being a witch, she would like to get her driver's –

She blinks. She is sitting in an unknown living room in an unknown place while Hermione stands across from her. Her daughter's appearance is mostly unchanged except for being rather thinner and wearing different clothes, but her eyes, those beautiful chocolate brown eyes, are unmistakably older, tired, world-weary.

Before her parents can, Hermione begins to speak. She holds them rapt for an unmeasured amount of time, for who could glance at a clock when hearing such an unbelievable story such as this? Hermione begins with the reason they never met Harry Potter's parents and goes into a tale of her six – not seven – years at school that are markedly different from the impression they received. She explains that she didn't finish her last year of school because she was on the run, fighting – fighting! – in a war – a war! – against a dark wizard. No, a Dark Wizard; one can hear the difference. Their Hermione, fighting for her life amidst daily danger. It's unbearable. She is in tears by the time she reaches the end. It's a year later since that seemingly innocuous moment just before tea in their living room, one they don't remember because they've been living in Australia under assumed identities. And they did this because she changed their memories.

Their daughter, the girl she gave birth to nearly nineteen years ago, pointed her stick of wood at them and made them do things without their knowledge, made them forget Hermione herself, just as the woman had said years ago.

She has Hermione in her arms without thinking; her baby needs her mother, and a mother's instinct is not to be ignored. Even as she murmurs words of reassurance and holds her close, she stares over Hermione's head at her husband, who stares back. They are thinking the same thing.

They are scared.

This girl, whom they gazed at in awe as a baby and cuddled as a toddler and encouraged as a child and hugged often as an adolescent, has power over them. Their smart, clever, idealistic Hermione can point that stick of wood at them and do whatever she wants.

They return to England and pick up the pieces of their old lives. Hermione has nightmares now, and Mrs. Granger never hesitates to comfort her daughter. She is still her daughter, even as she has become a stranger.

Hermione finishes school. She goes into the government. She marries that Ron Weasley and has two children. They applaud when she gets promoted and cry at her wedding and beam at their grandchildren. Rose and Hugo grow up, going off to that school and selecting their own sticks of wood. The gap between the Grangers' world and that of magic is omnipresent. They are always proud of Hermione and her family, and they always love them. But they never forget.

They've always known she's different, and it terrifies them.


End file.
